Friday, January 11, 2013

First day with the host family

1/5 Bamako

Today was the first full day with my host family. It started out pretty rough, if I’m honest. Everyone left for either work or school, and I was in the house alone with the servants, and no idea what was happening. At about 9, the family chaffeur showed up to take me to the architecture school, but I didn’t know that that was where he was taking me, which was a bit freaky. They said they were taking me to the school, but I had assumed that meant Point Sud, but didn’t really know what to do about that. It worked out though, in the end. I hung out there with Fatoumata for a while, and then we headed over to the Bamani’s, my host mother’s brother’s family for his daughter’s wedding. It was the religious ceremony, but I saw nothing of that, because I am neither a man nor an old woman, and those are the only people allowed in the mosque. We went over to the soon-to-be newlyweds soon-to-be house and helped to prepare the after-service meal of vegetables on a platter and lamb, with the right hand only, of course. It was an almost surreal experience, because everyone around me was only speaking Bambara for about 4 hours or so. I got the occasional few sentences directed at me in French, but other than that, I understood nothing of what was said. I also got my first marriage proposition today, from a cousin. I told him I was already married. Or rather, he asked if I was, and not know what to say, I said yes. They kept saying I should switch families with Yonas, which was kind of flattering, but also made me feel bad for him. My family also keeps telling me how much better my French is than their last student’s. I’m still not sure how I feel about this homestay though, because although I really like the family, we came back from the wedding, the TV went on, the laptops came out, and everyone dispersed. It was like at home. I don’t know what to do with myself when they do that, because I don’t want to watch TV, but I don’t want to be antisocial either.

Oh, man, that wedding. I still have no idea what was going on there. I wonder now how much I would have been able to understand at that marriage had I had the level of bambara I had when I left Mali. Probably not much more…

No comments:

Post a Comment